Madness Grows Where Shadows Form
by Neon Star
Summary: Glorfindel has been rescued from a band of orcs, but he is not the same as he was.
1. Default Chapter

I promise to get to my other stories as soon as I can. For now, I hope you enjoy the beginning of this one. :)  
  
Madness Grows Where Shadows Form  
  
*Its madness, pure madness. But how could he fall to such a predator?* Elrond questioned himself as he looked over his friend.  
  
Glorfindel lay quietly, staring up at the ceiling in Elven sleep. His pale face was drawn, and thin. Delicate eyes of emerald glinted darkly, even in rest, and his lips moved slightly, but no sound passed through them. His slender but strong arms were chained to the bedposts, as were his feet. Elrond hated keeping him like that, but it was the only way to keep him from hurting himself, and others.   
  
Elrond found his eyes tracing the fine scars upon the Elf's face and limbs. Though he didn't seem to be truly hurt, Glorfindel had suffered mentally and spiritually from the harsh treatment the orcs had placed upon him. They had been fools to believe him when he said he was all right. If they had known, they could have helped him better. Elrond's guilt lay heavy upon him for that. He should have known, better then any other. Glorfindel had been his friend since he had returned from Mandos and Elrond had found him. He should have known that Glorfindel's wounds went far deeper then flesh, he should have known!  
  
Anger at himself burned within his grieved heart, but it burned brighter at who should really be blamed. The orcs had taken Glorfindel, and horribly broke him using magic from some strange source. That source was the cause of this great pain, and he would get his revenge as soon as he found out who this source was.  
  
A flash of Glorfindel lying upon the ground, his blood running freely along the ground. His clothes ripped and soiled, his hair tangled, bloody, and cut off in some places. And his eyes, listless, hopeless...  
  
"Ada?" a soft voice called to him.  
  
He shook his head and tried to clear the thought from his mind. He turned to his daughter. She nodded to him grimly, her beautiful face marred still by a bruse upon her check. Elrond grimaced at the sight of it. Glorfindel had done that...  
  
"Has anything changed?" Arwen asked.  
  
"Nay, he rests, and has yet to awaken," Elrond said softly.  
  
Arwen knelt by her Father's side, and gently took his hands in her's.  
  
"He shall get well, Ada. He is strong, and has defeated evil, death, and madness before. He shall do so again," she assured him.  
  
He smiled weakly, and raised one of his hands to caress her check, "You sound so much like your Mother."  
  
"She knows it as I do," she said, and lay a hand upon his where it rested on her check.  
  
"I know. You are both wise. But as to your Mother, where is she?" Elrond asked.  
  
"Here, love," Celebrian's soft voice came as she laid a delicate hand upon his shoulder.  
  
Elrond looked up to her, and took comfort from her presence.  
  
"I had best go see to Toron. He is restless that his master has not come," Arwen said softly, letting go of her Father's hands and rising.  
  
She left silently, and Elrond knew why she left, to give them time alone.  
  
"I fear for him, love," Elrond sighed, turning his gaze back to the silent figure on the bed.  
  
"I know, dear, we all do. But Arwen is right, he shall come through this, as he has done so before," she said softly.  
  
He gently took her free hand and kissed it then held it for comfort. The memory bubbled up in him again, and only her touch kept the guilt at bay.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
Three weeks ago....  
  
They had been on a scouting patrol of the border of Rivendell when they had been ambushed. They had sensed their attackers too late, and it had cost them.  
  
"Glorfindel, we should turn back," Elrond said, looking over to the golden haired Elf.  
  
"I believe you are right, Elrond. I do not like this, something is wrong," Glorfindel said, turning Toron around.  
  
The horse nickered then snorted in alarm. Glorfindel turned, and noticed the shapes.  
  
"I fear it may be too late," he said, putting his hand to his sword.  
  
Elrond followed suit, seeing the hunched figures walking slowly towards them. As the figures grew closer, he could desern wicked looking swords, bows and arrows, spears, and other such weapons. And closer still they came, till the moonlight shown upon the hidous faces of the orcs that were approaching them. Elrond quickly drew his sword, Glorfindel right behind him.  
The orcs surrounded them, angling their own foul weapons in readiness to strike. Suddenly the foul creatures charged them, yelling fierce battle cries. Elrond's horse let out a shrill cry as the orcs drew swiftly near. Elrond slashed at the attacking orcs, slicing at them from his steed's back. His horse let out another cry, and fell, with him still on top. Elrond jumped off before the horse could fall upon him, and continued his attack against the orcs. His horse had gotten to his feet, and quickly galloped off, leaving the battle.   
  
Elrond fought on, until he heard a sharp cry of pain. He turned to see Glorfindel, a black arrow imbedded in his chest, fall from his horse. Elrond tried to make toward his wounded companion when a sharp pain entered his side. He looked down at the black arrow embedded there, then cut deeply into the orc trying to attack him. Suddenly the orcs retreated, for they saw they could not over come the Master of Rivendell with their ever-dwindling numbers.  
  
Elrond watched them retreat, then made his way to where he had seen his friend fall.  
  
"Glorfindel?" Elrond called, a hand holding his wounded side.   
  
But the Elf was nowhere to be seen, for the orcs had taken him. 


	2. 2

I looked over the post a while ago, and felt that I should put a bit more into it. Not much, but a little more different. More is on the way, and the wait will not be as long as it has been before. Thank you for all the excellent comments! :) Oh, for those of you who are Glor fans, check out www.geocities.com/queen_of_the_night_jewel/Glorfindel_Shrine.html  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Elrond had ridden to Rivendell upon Toron, though he had wished to follow after the orcs that had taken his best friend. But he knew that to be a foolish notion, as he was wounded. He had sent search parties out, and then had allowed a healer to look upon his wound. It had not been deep, and after treating and bandaging it, he rode out again the next morning. For three days they had looked for the orcs, and only found traces of them. There had been no hope by the end of the third day that they would find Glorfindel, yet Elrond could feel that he was still alive. Then they had found him.  
  
The orcs had abandoned the golden haired Elf, who had been near death at the time, in a small clearing. Elrond had been the first to find him, and that memory was forever burned in his mind.   
  
Many of them had given up hope, and even his sons' faiths waned. But he had continued, his soul burning with some pain that was not entirely his own. He knew not when he had left the group behind, but he had, and had come upon the clearing alone.  
  
Remnants of a camp remained, but that was not what had drawn his attention. It was the being staked to the ground in the middle. He had not been able to see clearly, for the shadows of night were slowly covering over the scene, but he knew it was Glorfindel. He had slowly come forth, his senses picking nothing up but the still figure before him.   
  
Finally he had been able to discern what wounds Glorfindel had physically sustained, and his heart nearly broke under what cruel things he beheld. A rope of thin wire had been tied around the Elf's neck, and lashed into the ground, as were his arms and legs tied by the same thin wire, and lashed to the ground in the same manner, the wires cutting into the pale flesh, drawing forth blood. Wounds lay open and bleeding, a large one upon his shoulder, directly above his heart. Others that were smaller yet just as deep, were scattered across Glorfindel's body. His emerald eyes were closed, and his mouth hung open, his lips a faint shade of blue as his skin was near gray. Kneeling quickly at his friend's side, he took no notice of the blood that seeped into his clothes as he grasped hold of the wire around the Elf's neck. He had cut quickly at the wire, severing it with slight difficulty, and unwrapped it from his friend's throat. He had then set upon reviving his fading friend, pulling forth his healing strength, and lending it to that still heart. It seemed like eternity had past before that heart began to beat again, and Glorfindel began to breath.  
  
"No, no!" Glorfindel had groaned, fighting against the bonds that still held him down, cutting deeper into his wrists and feet.  
  
"You are safe now, Glorfindel," Elrond soothed as he worked quickly at the bonds, severing them before they severed the Elf's limbs to the bone.  
  
"No, no," Glorfindel moaned, his eyes fluttering open, revealing a panicked soul within.  
  
"Shhhh, nîn mell meldir, it shall be well now," Elrond said, cutting the last bond before returning to gently touch his friend's scarred face.  
  
"No, Elrond, no. Let me die," Glorfindel had whispered, his eyes becoming hopeless and forlorn.  
  
"No, Glorfindel, you shall live. Your wounds shall heal," Elrond said softly.  
  
"Nay, nay. Please, Elrond! Let me die!" Glorfindel pleaded, pushing away from Elrond.  
  
Then it seemed as if he had receded back into himself, and he lay, shuddering helplessly in his own blood, his eyes near black with terror, helplessness and pain.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
Elrond stirred from his memory just as Glorfindel jerked upon his bed. A low groan came from those pale lips as emerald eyes turned outward from Elven dreams. For a moment, those eyes seemed lost, bewildered, yet, Elrond could see the one he wished to save in those darkened eyes, for that flicker of light within those depths could only be one being.  
  
"Elrond?" Glorfindel called softly, almost as if he distrusted his own voice.  
  
"I am here," Elrond said, coming nearer to the bed.  
  
"What have I done?" Glorfindel whispered, remembered agony echoing in his eyes.  
  
"It was not you," Elrond said softly, knowing in his heart that his Glorfindel would not do what the darkness had made him do.  
  
"Nay, and yet it was. Is Arwen alright?" Glorfindel asked, his eyes filled with worry and grief.  
  
"She will heal," Elrond said, hesitantly laying a hand upon Glorfindel's shoulder to comfort him.  
  
A dark light seemed to come over Glorfindel's eyes at his touch, turning them as hard as stone, "Get your foul hand off me, Half Elven," Glorfindel spat, his voice turning from gentle and worried, to cold as ice.  
  
Elrond did not retreat from that harsh look, but did take his hand from his friend's shoulder, "You have to fight, Glorfindel. Darkness cannot prevail over you."  
  
"What darkness? I see no darkness here except in your foul blood. Get away from me!" Glorfindel snarled.  
  
"This darkness will dispel soon from you, you have only need to fight it," Elrond said softly, placing his hand upon Glorfindel's brow, sending his power to knock the Elf out, before he regained enough power.  
  
"I will kill you, Half Elven..." Glorfindel's voice trailed off as his eyes took on a turned inward look.  
  
"Not before I free you from this darkness, nin meldir," Elrond whispered, his heart clenching in his chest as he resumed his watch.  
  
He did not know how he would be able to free Glorfindel, if the golden haired Elf could not free himself. Elrond had tried what he could, but the darkness seemed so strong. But he would not give up, for he knew Glorfindel would not give up on him if such a thing happened to him, so he could not give up on him. Sitting once more, he sighed softly, and turned his stormy gray eyes upon the resting figure, praying to the Valar for the strength to fight this foul foe that had seized his best friend. 


End file.
